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I wish I wish my love were free and sat below the magnolia tree, but me poor girl is dead and gone and the green grass grows o'er the graves below. And I ain't heard, nor never will be, till the sweet apple grows on the sour apple tree. I wish I wish my love had died and set her soul to wander free. Then we might meet where ravens fly and let our poor bodies rest in peace. And I ain't heard no never ill be till the sweet apple grows on the sour apple tree. And I ain't heard nor never will be till the sweet apple grows on the sour apple tree.

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from Our Hearts are Gold, Our Grass is Blue, released September 17, 2009

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